


Uncertainty Principle

by Psyromayniak



Series: Eutectics [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Child Abuse, ColdatomWeek2016, Drugs mention, Found Family, High School, High School AU, Hurt/Comfort, I fucked around with the age gaps a bit, Len is 16, Lisa is 8, M/M, Mick is 18, Ray is 14, Slow Burn, Smoking, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex Mention, child abuse mention, coldatom, coldatomweek, it's 1988, now here's where it gets hella messy, playfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6664135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psyromayniak/pseuds/Psyromayniak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1988 in Central City, and fourteen-year-old Ray Palmer is your regular overachiever and all round nerd. He goes to school, does work way beyond his level and tries to avoid the school bully, Mick Rory. But everything is set to change when he's asked to tutor the new boy, leather jacket touting Leonard Snart. And damn, Ray could kick himself, but he was pretty. </p><p>Day Two of coldatomweek2016! Highschool AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bad to Worse

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** This story contains some rather graphic description of child abuse, because Lewis Snart is a shitstain on humanity. 
> 
> I apologise for any terrible mistakes about either the 80s or the American education system, I have only wikipedia to guide me.

From the moment he managed to spill the milk from his cereal bowl down his front that morning, Ray Palmer just _knew_ his day was going to get worse. His brother Sydney had run into the main bathroom before him, quoting his usual “ _I_ go to _private_ school so _I_ deserve to use the shower first” mantra, forcing Ray into his parent’s ensuite to scrub the stain off his t-shirt, before giving up and changing instead.

Of course, the bus _had_ to be late. Congested traffic due to ‘routine roadwork’ meant that Ray ended up at his thoroughly _public_ school with only minutes to spare before his first class, making him sprint to his locker to get his textbooks… only to find himself face to face with the worst thing yet to come. _Mick Rory._

Now, Ray wouldn’t have said he was a coward. He was more than prepared to stand up for himself or for anyone else who needed help, it was in his nature. But when the fourteen year old, small and wiry as he was with thick lensed glasses stuck on his face, was confronted by the walking wall of muscle that was eighteen year old _Mick_ , cowardice was the _only_ option.  

Highschool was a Darwinian landscape, survival of the fittest reigning true, and Ray’s own specially adapted niche was in the classroom; not roaming the corridors with apex predators like Mick. He gulped. This was it. He was dead meat.

Mick clocked him at once, shifting his large frame to further obscure the front of Ray’s locker from view.

“ _Palmer_. Nice to see you.” Mick’s voice was gruff as he flicked the lid of a zippo lighter open and struck the flint, igniting the gas and watching with hungry eyes as the flame licked up past his thumb.

“Y-you too, Mick. Mr Rory. _Sir_.” Ray edged forward a little, hoping that the grovelling would do him some good, maybe even save him a beating if he was lucky. Mick had had it in for him since day one.

“What can I do you for?” the larger boy said, not taking his eyes from the flame.

“I, uh. My locker. I need to get my books. For class. AP Physics, and I’m already running late...”

At once Mick had flicked the zippo closed and shoved it into a deep pocket, turning finally to look at Ray with a lazy grin. “You know the deal, Palmer. Lunch money, whatever you got.” He extended one of his big palms to Ray, who sullenly placed $6 in it.

It was a good job Ray had packed a sandwich.

Pocketing the cash, Mick sidestepped and let Ray past, watching the boy hurriedly yank the door open and pull out a stack of books. He closed it with a crash, shoving the key into his jean pocket and starting off down the corridor toward his classroom. Mick made sure to shoulder him roughly as he passed, smiling to himself as the kid stumbled. It was the _little things_ in life...

“Sorry I’m late!” Ray blurted as he pushed open the door to the lab open heavily.

He was flushed red, he knew. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were dark sweat circles under his arms, either, it was just that kind of morning. It didn’t help that he was already the youngest in his class, having been moved up two grades as it was, plus sharing most of his AP classes with seniors as well. He was the odd one out and he _hated_ doing anything else that would give him more credits on his weirdo card.

His nerd card, on the other hand, was pretty much ready to give him a master’s degree. Sure, he _went_  to his AP physics, maths, chemistry, computing and engineering classes but the work he did in them was practically postgrad level, having completed the curriculum weeks ago. He probably could have sat the tests early, maybe even graduate highschool and move on to college already, but the prospect was a little daunting to say the least.

It was much nicer to sit at the back of the class and work through the high level assignments his teachers gave him in the safety of the school building than have to worry about _university_. He was only fourteen, and that kind of independence scared him almost as much as Mick.

“Ah, Ray! There you are. Not to worry, I know traffic can be awful,” his teacher fixed him with that knowing smile of hers mid writing Hooke’s law up on the chalkboard. “Actually you won’t be long through the door! The Principal wanted to see you in his office, if you wouldn’t mind. Don’t worry, Ray, this is only a review of the topics we’ve covered so far this semester, and those quantum workbooks will still be here when you get back.”

  _Huh_. He doubted he was in any trouble, being late once was never a one way ticket the Principal. Setting his books down heavily on his desk, Ray ignored the stares of his classmates as he picked his way back through the rows of benches to the door, hall pass gripped firmly in his hand.

Ray had been to see the Principal many times over his few short years at the highschool, and the two were on quite good terms. The man was slightly aged, short cut hair a steel grey and a bushy moustache perched on his top lip, and he always seemed to have a twinkle in his eye when he talked to Ray – usually about his wonderful test scores and his university prospects.

_“Harvard for sure, Raymond! Or have you thought about studying abroad? Oxford or Cambridge would love to have you!”_

So it wasn’t a surprise when he knocked on the man’s door to find himself welcomed in with open arms, the man’s moustache quivering as he smiled broadly. What _was_ a surprise, though, was the other boy in the room.

Adorned with a scuffed old leather jacket and rattiest jeans Ray had ever seen, the boy practically lounged in the chair in front of the Principal’s desk. His hair was cut short at the sides, the top curling slightly at the edges despite the almost over use of hair product and combing to get it to sit flat. He looked older than Ray, maybe around sixteen, though his face was borderline angelic.

The boy shifted his eyes to look at Ray, the cold and calculating stare stripping him back to the bone. He felt naked in front of him, like the boy saw right through him. Maybe not so angelic, then. Or as angelic as Lucifer perhaps was – Ray still wasn’t sure where he stood on the subject of religion.

“Raymond!” the Principal’s voice broke him out of his trance. “This is Leonard Snart. He just, ah... _moved_ to the area with his family.”

The boy – Leonard – tipped his head in greeting, his sharp eyes giving Ray another once over. He’d never felt so self-conscious in his life. Ray held out a hand testingly.

“I’m Ray Palmer. Good to meet you.” He did his best not to sound too enthusiastic as Leonard eyed his hand, taking it finally in his own with his long, slender fingers. His skin was cool to the touch, his palms soft. Ray wasn’t sure why, but he felt his heart skip a beat.

The Principal eyed this exchange with satisfaction before continuing. “Leonard will be transferring into a few of your advanced placement classes, namely physics and mathematics. As he’s missed out on everything before the Winter break – and the last few weeks, of course – your teachers hoped that you might be able to bring Mister Snart here up to speed with the curriculum, if you have the time.”

Before Ray could answer Leonard cut in, his voice sharp with annoyance. “Really, it’s _fine_. I’m sure I’ll be able to _cope_ without a tutor, Sir.”

But the Principal shook his head briskly. “No, no, Leonard, I insist. I know you’re a bright boy but Raymond here can really help you. He might look young, but the boy has a mind of a _genius_.” – Ray couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at this open admission – “At least let him show you around the school and fill you in on what you’ll be covering in your classes. It’ll be good for your transition.”

“ _Fine._ ”

The Principal beamed. “Wonderful! I’ll leave you boys to it, then, I have a few errands to run.” And he was out of the door before Ray could say a word.

Snart got to his feet lazily, eyes scanning the Principal’s desk before turning back to Ray. “I guess you’re stuck with me, then.”

Ray jumped to reply, a little too much cheer in his voice. “Oh no, it’s fine! Honestly! I’m way ahead of my classes as it is, so it’s no bother at all to help you out. Show you around, give you the, uh, lay of the land as it were. I have some spare books I can lend you if you don’t want me to tutor you. But if you do, then, I mean, that’s good too. I’m pretty free at lunchtimes or after school generally. You need anything, just give me a shout!”

Snart was leaning against the desk now, his lips pulled into a thin smirk. “Well aren’t you just a regular ray of sunshine.”

Ray grinned back at him. “I do my best. So, uh, what do you want to do?”

Leonard snorted. “Well, we _are_ in a school. I would think we would have a _class_ , now, right?”

Ray’s face fell. “ _Crap._ Yeah. AP Physics. I just came from there, we should probably go back. I have a hall pass so I can take you on a bit of a tour of the school first, if you want. Show you the big attractions like the library... and the canteen. Um, there’s not really much else to see on the inside.”

Leonard nodded slowly, taking in the kid in front of him. He was smallish, but gangly, so he probably had a lot of growing to do in the next couple of years. His hair was neatly parted to one side, and under those big Clark Kent glasses his face wasn’t awful to look at. Snart was sure that by the time puberty was done with this geek he’d definitely be something to look at.

“Lead the way.”

* * *

 

Sitting in physics next to Leonard Snart was an odd affair, to say the least. Ray had his nose buried in a textbook while the rest of the class made notes on what their teacher was saying as she wrote up more equations on the board. Well, most of the rest of the class. Leonard had one foot pulled up onto his stool, eyes fixed on the teacher, but the pad of paper in front of him remained disconcertingly blank.

_If he doesn’t work in class than how am I supposed to tutor him?_ Ray thought with a frown, but his concerns were suddenly abolished.

“Leonard, you seem to be paying attention. Can you explain the laws of classical thermodynamics simply to the class for us?” Their teacher was smiling warmly, encouragingly, at Snart.

At first Ray thought he was going to have to help him out, but Leonard reeled off a textbook answer without batting an eyelid, his expression unchanging as the teacher’s smile broadened.

“The first law of thermodynamics is that the internal energy of an isolated system is _constant_. The second law states that heat does _not_ flow spontaneously from a _cool_ body to a _hotter_ body. And the _third_ law states that the entropy of all perfect crystalline substances at _absolute zero_ ,” Snart paused in his slow, rhythmic drawl for a moment (Ray could have _sworn_ it was for dramatic effect), “is _zero_.”

Their teacher grinned, a flicker of smugness in the corner of her eye as she probed a little more. “Aren’t you missing-?” She didn’t get to finish.

Sighing, Snart examined his nails. “The _zeroth_ law of thermodynamics, so named because it really should have been the first but was come up with last, is that when two systems are in thermal equilibrium with a _third_ system, they themselves are in thermal equilibrium with _each other._ Or; temperature exists and we can measure it.”

“ _Perfect!_ ” she launched instantly back into her spiel, the class as one hunkering back down to continue taking notes.

Snart threw a lazy glance at Ray – who was admittedly slightly impressed – along with a single, furtive wink.

The next hours passed with relative ease, the two boys walking to their next classes with few words passed between them. Leonard Snart, it seemed, had a good working knowledge of math and engineering as well as physics, the only notes he took being a quick sketch of the set of blueprints for the school which were pinned up on display in the engineering classroom.

“You interested in structural engineering?” Ray whispered to him as he peered over his shoulder at the rough yet surprisingly accurate drawing.

Snart immediately closed his workbook, eyeing Ray with suspicion. “It’s just a reference, don’t worry about it.”

And that was that. Ray left Leonard alone for the rest of the class, choosing instead to question the teacher about something he’d read while the rest of the students worked.

When at last the lunch bell rang, Ray was half expecting the older boy to leave without him. But then again, Ray was the only person he knew, so it shouldn’t have been such a surprise when he came to hover by Ray’s chair as he packed away his books.

“It’s lunch now, right?”

“Uh, yeah. You want to eat together?” Ray pulled the chord on his backpack and slung it over his shoulders.

“ _Sure_. Though if you want to start ‘catching me up’ on the syllabus I’d be happy to.” Snart folded his arms in an attempt to look bored, but there was something in the effort of it all that caught Ray’s eye. Maybe a he cared a little more than he wanted anyone else to believe.

Leonard hadn’t brought any food with him, so they took a table in the canteen amid the raucous of the rest of the school, Snart lining up to buy food while Ray rescued his slightly squished PB and J sandwich from the recesses of his bag, the plastic wrap coming off wrinkled and slightly sticky. Not the most aesthetically pleasing lunch, but it was better than starving at the hands of the school thug.

To his mild disbelief, Snart opened his workbook the moment he sat down in front of Ray, the plate of dodgy canteen lasagne set next to it.

“So where do you want to start?” Leonard said, pulling out a pen from his pocket and scribbling a date in the corner of the page.

For the next forty five minutes, Leonard seemed to work tirelessly; writing careful transcript of everything Ray said while wolfing down his lunch like he hadn’t eaten in a week. He filled page after page with his spidery handwriting, interjected with equations and diagrams where they were needed.

After about twenty minutes or so, Snart shrugged off his leather jacket and stretched his arms out, his t-shirt pulling up to his naval. Ray found his eyes wandering to the expanse of skin, marvelling at the dark hint of a snail trail against his white flesh heading down under the waistband of his jeans. Another flash of colour caught Ray’s eye at once as Snart’s shirt pulled up on one side to the line of his ribs.

Leonard quickly tugged his shirt back down and hunched back over his book, but Ray was certain he’d seen it: a livid, purple bruise on the boy’s side.

_He could have got that anywhere_ , Ray told himself, but even as he resumed his lesson a niggling doubt clawed at the back of his mind.

As the lunch hour drew closer to its end, Ray came to notice the canteen crowd thinning as students made their way outside to enjoy the last fifteen minutes of freedom, or go to their lockers. Ray rubbed his eyes and looked around the lunch hall as Leonard finished off writing his last sentence. Maybe they could go for a walk before they went to chemistry and-

Ray’s stomach clenched and his heart filled with dread. There, striding across the dining hall, huge fists clenched by his sides, was _Mick._

“We need to go. _Now_.” There was panic in his voice, he knew. Hopefully it would convey the urgency of the situation to the new boy, as one niche prey animal to another. Nothing screamed ‘swirly’ like a new kid at school.

Glancing up from his notes, Snart gave him a puzzled look. “Why?”

Ray floundered, searching for words that could explain the dire nature of their predicament, but they never came. Instead he opted for a wide gesture at the approaching titan, hoping that the menacing figure Mick cut was enough to spur Leonard into evasive action.

But as Snart followed his hand and looked round, Ray couldn’t believe his eyes. The boy’s face changed instantly, from the half-bored, withdrawn expression he seemed to have worn all day to a look of pure joy. His mouth drew up into a wide, gaping grin, his eyes wrinkling at the corners and his body suddenly animated.

He jumped up from the chair and spread his arms wide, his blue eyes twinkling. Mick seemed to double his pace, a lopsided grin on his face as he pulled Snart into a bear hug. Ray looked on in stunned silence as _Mick Rory_ picked Leonard up and spun him around roughly, plonking him back down and stepping back, barely containing his glee.

“Lenny, what the fuck are you doing here, man?” Mick had his hands behind his head, shaking it side to side in his own disbelief, “I didn’t know you was out yet.”

Snart was grinning back at him. “Got out last month, but my old school wouldn’t take me. Said I caused too much _trouble_. I wasn’t a good _role model_ for the younger years.”

“Man, if I’d have known I’d come seen ya.”

“Lisa’s missing you. She kept asking after you but I didn’t have your new address and Linda wouldn’t give it to me over the phone.”

“Didn’t move far, Len. Just outta that Godawful apartment building. My aunt and I got a bungalow now. With a _garage_ and _picket fence_. It’s nice, man, you should come visit some time. My aunt’ll be passed out on the couch like normal so we’ll have the run of the place.”

Eyes wide, Ray watched the exchange markedly terrified, as if at any moment Mick would notice him and suddenly attack. At least they were surrounded by people, so any damage he did would have _witnesses_.

At last Mick’s eyes fell to his own like a lion watching a gazelle from afar, willing it to come closer.

“What you doing with this punk, Len?”

Snart glanced over his shoulder at Ray before turning back to Mick, shrugging. “The school assigned him as my _tutor_ , you know, to catch me up.”

“Aw, you don’t need a tutor Len! You’re already twice as smart as anyone in this damn school, ‘part from maybe Nerd Lord there.”

Snart shrugged again, swinging an arm in a sweeping gesture from Mick to the table. “He’s not too bad, actually. Kinda like him, in a ‘mandatorily assigned to spend time with him’ kind of way. Sit with us, Mick.”

Mick grunted, crossing the table to sit heavily beside Ray, his bulging biceps crowding him and making the kid edge a little further away in his seat. Ray’s initial fear hadn’t quelled, and Mick’s presence next to him only stoked it higher. He was pretty sure that if the senior so much as said ‘boo’ he was likely to wet himself.

As if reading his mind, Mick turned to him and grinned. “Don’t worry squirt I ain’t gonna hurt ya just now.”

Snart had settled back down into his chair, closing his workbook and interlacing his fingers on the table top. It was a little awkward, the three of them sitting there in silence. It was something that Ray really couldn’t bear, his anxiety levels dangerously high as they were, so he decided to take the plunge.

“So, uh, how do you two know each other?” his voice was shaking a little, he knew, but there was nothing he could do about that right now.

Mick shifted, opening his mouth to answer but quickly closing it again, his eyes darting immediately to Snart. Ray couldn’t believe it. _Mick Rory_ was actually deferring to the boy, out some sort of... _respect?_

Snart narrowed his eyes. “We met in juvie a few years back.”

“ _Juvie_. As in... a juvenile detention centre. As in prison. For minors. Of course.” Ray knew his face was picture of shock, but once again, his conscious control over his muscles was somewhat impaired.

Mick was breathing down his neck at once, his proverbial hackles raised. “You got a problem with that, boy scout?”

“N-no, no problem. I just- I didn’t realise that,” he gestured to Len, “you were uh...”

“The _criminal_ type?” Snart smiled thinly as Ray nodded once. “Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, kid. What about you? How do _you_ know Mick?”

The bigger guy laughed at once, throwing a beefy arm around Ray’s shoulder. “Oh, we go _way_ back. What was it, when I set fire to your special science book thing?”

Shaking his head, Ray remained frozen to the spot.

“Huh... what was it then? Speak _up_ now.”

Ray swallowed thickly, managing to squeeze out a single, quiet word. “Locker.”

At once Mick released him, clapping his hands together in epiphany. “That’s _it!_ ” He turned to Snart. “I locked him in his locker.”

“I see...” Len eyed him calmly, “and _why_ exactly did you do that, Mick?”

Mick shrugged, making a noncommittal noise. “I dunno, he was just so _small_ and _locker sized_ , you know? It was fun.”

At last Ray had found his tongue, and he gave an offended cry. “ _Fun?!_ I was in there for _two hours_. They had to get the _janitor_ to break me out.”

“It was _hilarious_. You shoulda been there, Len.”

Ray felt sick. Up until now he’d been starting to like Leonard, he seemed a bit distant but he was _amicable,_ and definitely quite pretty, though Ray could have kicked himself for thinking that. But if Mick Rory was the kind of guy Snart was friends with, then surely he couldn’t be that great of a person. Right? He’d just keep his head down, get the guy up to speed with the class and let that be that. Done. Finished.

Caught up in his thoughts, he hadn’t even realised that Len was speaking to him. At his blank look, the boy repeated himself.

“I _said_ , is this going to be a _problem_ between you two?”

Mick screwed his face up in concern. “You planning on keeping him around, Len?”

Snart’s tone resumed the cold, biting edge it had had in the Principal’s office. “I don’t see why _not_.” It was almost commanding, and there was something harder behind his eyes as he spoke, making Mick retreat a little. His voice softened again. “Anyway, he has to tutor me on the rest of the, uh, work for the semester.”

Mick grunted in acceptance. “Alright.”

“How does that sit with _you_ , Raymond?”

Ray blinked. “Uh?”

“Let me spell it out for you. You continue to be my _wonderful_ tutor to appease the school system, Mick will probably be around us a lot of the time. This, _understandably_ , would make you feel _uncomfortable_. So, in the interest of preserving the peace, Mick here will stop whatever _doubtlessly_ humour filled acts of domestic torment he has planned for you. How does that sound?” Snart tilted his head to the side as he posed the question.

Ray swallowed again before speaking, taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves. “Pretty... _good_ actually.”

In one swift movement Len had collected his things and was standing up from the table. “Then it’s settled. Let’s go, we have _class._ ” And he was stalking off across the canteen, leaving Mick and Ray alone at the table.

 Ray made a move to stand, but Mick’s hand was on his arm in an instant, gripping him tight.

_This is it. I’m going to die._  

“Hang on, haircut,” Mick’s other hand was buried deep in his pocket, pulling out a handful of _things_ and dumping them on the table.

There were three lighters, a half empty carton of cigarettes, an unopened condom and, there, something silvery and metallic. _A key_. Mick picked this last item up and held it out to Ray, who took it gingerly.

“Thanks, I think?”

“’s your locker key. Lifted it off you earlier, but you can have it back now.”

Nodding, Ray tried to pull away, only to find Mick’s hand gripping him even tighter.

“ _Wait.”_ Mick dug into his other pocket and pulled out a bundle of crumpled bills.

He released Ray and began counting them out slowly, doing his best to smooth out the wrinkles before offering the pile to the younger boy.

“Here. Your lunch money from the past couple days. Uh... I’d give you more, ya know, to make up the rest but I kinda already spent it, and I don’t have that kinda cash laying around that ain’t got a purpose, you know? Bills and stuff. And I’m saving up for a deposit on my own place...”

Ray eyed the cash warily. There must have been maybe forty dollars there, in fives and ones. “You know what? Keep it. I don’t need it. Put it toward your deposit, Mick.”

The bigger man squinted at Ray, his hand not moving. “You sure, kid?”

“Yeah. Yeah I’m sure.” And Ray was off across the dining hall after Len before he could change his mind.


	2. Sunny Afternoons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray, Len and Mick start to bond as a group and discover the simpler joys of an April afternoon in the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** You'll never guess it, but there's more abuse description in this chapter.

It was weird, Ray found, how quickly the dynamic between the three boys changed. At first the lunchtime meetings were weird; Mick and Len always seeming to have some inside joke to laugh about, leaving Ray on the side-lines. But it didn’t take long before Ray was laughing with them, as Mick explained in great and gory detail their time in juvie together, or his own theatrical exploits outside of the law.

Where the sight of Mick standing by his locker had once terrified him, the big guy was now almost a comfort. Mick Rory wasn’t the only kid in school who enjoyed the finer pleasures of torturing younger kids, but he was certainly the scariest. Once another senior had shoved Ray into a locker so hard the frame of his glasses broke, but not as hard as Mick had punched the kid in the face after finding out. Broken glasses versus a broken nose was a good trade off, Ray thought. He had a spare set anyway.

Sometimes Len and Mick would even meet him at the bus stop and walk into school with him, Mick distributing probably shoplifted candy bars amongst them. Never before had Ray felt so much like he _belonged_. It was all so weird to him, having his ex-bully lift him up onto his shoulders at recess to get a ball down from the gutter, or sitting on the wall outside of school as Len and Mick shared a smoke.

Out of everyone at the school, even the kids he’d known since junior high, Leonard Snart and Mick Rory had become his best and closest friends. As Mick told them about his own adventures, Ray got to share not so graphic stories from his own life; how his brother was a dick and his parent’s favourite, how badly allergic to pet fur he was and how awesome it was that that gave him the right, in his father’s eyes, to own a _snake_.

Len, on the other hand, shared very little. Ray knew he had a sister named Lisa – maybe she was around eight years old – and that they lived with his father, who was a drunk and often violent. But that was it. No gory details, no mimicked arguments, and – as Ray often thought to himself – visible bruises. Anything Snart did share was brief, whispered, and mainly to Mick.

Even if he didn’t open up, Ray still enjoyed being around Len. He always wore that same leather jacket that smelt of sweat and cigarettes and _him_ , and he was always happy and receptive to do schoolwork with Ray. Ray couldn’t help himself, there was something so _interesting_ about Leonard Snart that he just couldn’t let it be. He often caught himself staring at the older boy, tracing the line of his jaw to his neck with his eyes and wondering how his pale skin would feel under his hands, or his mouth.

At these points, Ray would shut himself down. Go to the bathroom and splash water on his face, or do _something_ to distract him. He couldn’t have a crush on Leonard Snart, he just _couldn’t_.

But as the semester wore on, the workload got heavier and heavier. Assignments and projects were thrown at them left, right and centre and even Ray was finding it hard to keep up. He’d been paired with Len for a physics project, which they’d been trying their hardest to work on every lunchtime, but the days to deadline were slowly ticking by and the end wasn’t nearly in sight.

Running his hands through his hair, Ray shook his head at their half finished project. “There aren’t enough hours in the day, Len. We’re not going to finish up in time.”

Snart was midway through drawing up a table of results and he didn’t look round before he answered. “Sure we will, Raymond. Where’s that stoic optimism you’re so famous for?”

“Len, come _on_. You can’t pretend that an hour or so a day is enough to get this done.”

Snart didn’t answer, instead finishing the lines of his table and pulling over a textbook.

Ray could have bored holes into the back of his skull with his eyes. “Len. If we could just work after school for a little bit. An hour a day, or a few hours one evening a week, or God forbid at the _weekend_ we might actually be able to stand a chance-“

“No.”

“ _Len_ , this is half our _grade_.”

“Ray, I don’t have a choice. I _have_ to look after Lisa. Maybe I can call my grandpa and he can sort something out for a few hours on the weekend but that’s as much as I can do. You _know_ I can’t leave her alone with Lewis.”

Ray could only shake his head. “How about we go over to your place, then? Then you could look after Lisa at the same time-”

Len snapped his head around abruptly, anger burning in his eyes. “ _No._ You’re not coming to my _home,_ Raymond, I won’t allow it.”

Ray gaped it him. “Your dad can’t be _that_ bad, can he?”

But Snart was on his feet, stalking toward him furiously. He stopped half a foot from where Ray stood and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up to his clavicle. Ray’s jaw dropped and his heart clenched in his chest.

There were a series of bruises along Snart’s ribs of varying hues, some the tinged green of days old blows, other more livid, reds and purples and blacks. What was maybe more shocking, however, was the jagged scar running horizontally across his chest, white and faded now but still poignant and raised against his otherwise smooth skin.

“Can’t be _that_ bad, huh?” Snart bared his teeth viciously, keeping his shirt raised up and letting Ray drink in the damage.

“Jesus, Len. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t think-”

“No, you didn’t.” Len let his shirt drop, closing his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose. When he flicked his eyes open he was calmer; composed. “I will not let my baby sister alone with that man for longer than _absolutely_ necessary, and I will _not_ let you or anyone else I care about near him either, you understand?”

Too dumbstruck by all that he’d seen to really pay attention to Len’s words, Ray nodded quickly.

“So I don’t care how much of our _grade_ this project is, we have to do it while Lisa is at school.”

From the other side of the room where he’d been sitting quietly, Mick made a noise. Both Ray and Len turned their heads sharply to look at him, the tension between them dissipating.

“Ya know,” Mick started, flicking open his zippo, “you could always pick Lisa up from school and bring her straight round to my place. It’s pretty kid friendly. My aunt’s an alcoholic but she ain’t violent like Lewis, Len. All she does is drink vodka and pass out. There’s plenty of space for you guys to do your project, and I can keep Lisa busy with videogames or something.”

 Snart opened his mouth to object, but for once he couldn’t find the words. It was, by all rights, a solid plan.

And that soon became the norm. The school day would pass as usual, then Len, Mick and Ray would walk the few blocks to Lisa’s elementary school to pick her up. From there they’d catch the bus to Mick’s aunt’s bungalow – a nice little job with a white picket fence, well manicured front lawn and blue painted garage right in the middle of suburbia. Inside they’d bid a cheery ‘good afternoon’ to the barely conscious form of Mick’s aunt herself, before settling down either in the dining room, Mick’s bedroom or sometimes even in the yard.

Out of nowhere Mick would produce a tray of drinks and cookies and set himself about entertaining Lisa while Ray and Len worked. It was bliss if Ray had ever known it.

It was an April afternoon, the sun was shining as it began to sink in the sky, and Mick, Ray, and Len were sitting at the little wooden table in the backyard. Lisa was on the grass, playing happily on the swing set Mick had built. Snart took a long drag on the cigarette he was smoking before reaching over Ray to pass it to Mick.

Ray closed his eyes and let the closeness of Len’s body wash over him, the brush of his arm against the back of his neck. Their midterms were behind them, now, and the bulk of their coursework handed in. Ray had done exceptionally well, as was expected, and Snart had come a close second in their shared classes.

The Principal has pulled Ray aside when the results had been given out, commending him on his excellent work. “ _You’re a credit to yourself, Raymond, I can’t congratulate you enough. No, no, not on your own results – they’re brilliant as always – but on Mister_ Snart’s _. Under your watchful eye that boy seems to have flourished here._ ”

Even Mick had scraped a pass in most of his exams, which was commendable in its own right. 

“I wish it could be like this forever...” Ray hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the moment kind of overwhelmed him and he was known to be a little overzealous. He grinned as he felt one of Mick’s big hands ruffle his hair.

“Who says it can’t be, haircut? I’m getting pretty close to enough for a deposit on my own place, so when I get that it can be like this every day if you want. Len and Lisa can come move in with me and get away from Lewis, and you can come visit whenever, Ray. All we gotta do is pay the rent and we’re set.” Mick took a drag of the cigarette and passed it back to Len over Ray’s head.

Ray gave him a sideways look. “You found a job, then?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

Ray was about to go off into a spiel about how he needed an above board, _legal_ job that didn’t involve breaking and entering and _did_ involve paying taxes when the sound of the doorbell echoed out onto the deck.

“Oh _shit_ ,” Mick was standing up hurriedly, “it’s Linda! I completely forgot. _Shit, shit, shit_.” Mick turned at the doorway, a pleading look in his eyes. “We can’t let her go in my room.” And he was through the door.

Ray turned to Snart questioningly. “Who’s Linda, and why can’t she go in Mick’s bedroom?”

Len flicked the ash from the end of the cigarette and grinned. “ _Linda_ is a cross between a social worker and a parole officer for Mick, and she can’t go in his room because _that’s_ where he stashes his tools, unfenced goods he’s _liberated_ from their original owners and, well, his _stash._ ”

Ray made a small ‘o’ with his mouth, taking a moment to glimpse Snart’s contended face as he watched his sister play. It was a gift, Ray thought, getting to see him like this.

There were voices behind them, growing louder as Mick and Linda walked through the house and into the garden.

“-such a nice day, thought we might sit outside. Got some friends, over, if that’s alright.”

“Of course, Mick, that would be wonderful.” A female voice, Linda’s, seemed right behind them as Ray turned.

Linda was a short woman but quite broad, her skin dark and her hair worn in thick braids that were tied in a ponytail at the back. She was very smartly dressed, a black leather briefcase in one hand, and she smiled warmly at the boys in the yard.

“Uh, Linda, this is Len and Ray, from school-”

“UNCLE MICK!” Lisa had suddenly clocked the newcomer, and Mick’s return, and was hurtling at full tilt across the grass. She launched herself up into his arms, wrapping her own around his trunk of a neck, and twisting around to scrutinise Linda.

“And who might this be?” Linda had a slightly confused look on her face, but she was smiling none the less.

“This is Lisa. Len’s little sister. Lisa, this is Linda, my uh...”

“Parole officer?” Lisa continued to squint at Linda like she might soon melt.

“That’s right, young lady. It’s very good to meet you.”

“You’re much nicer than daddy’s parole officer, Mrs Linda,” Lisa said after a few more seconds squinting, finally satisfied that she wasn’t an immediate threat. Turning back to Mick she wiggled her legs. “Down please.” And Mick let her down to the floor.

As Lisa ran back to play on the swing, Linda took a seat at the table and stuck her hand out to Len. “You must be Leonard Snart. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Snart took the hand and shook it firmly, before stubbing the cigarette out on the table. “All good things, I hope.”

“I’d say it depends on what your judgement of ‘good’ is, Mister Snart. Mick seems to think very highly of you. The American justice system does _not_. _But_ , I’m sure that’s all water under the bridge and you’re a reformed character now.” Linda gave Snart a knowing smile before turning to Ray, Mick having disappeared off into the kitchen. “You I haven’t heard a beep about.” She presented her hand to Ray.

Ray shook as firmly as he could. “Ray Palmer, good to meet you Linda. I, um, I tutor Leonard.” He was instantly aware of Len’s arm around his shoulders suddenly, squeezing him.

“And he’s very good at it. A true role model for us all, aren’t you, Raymond? Doesn’t even _smoke_.”

Linda raised an eyebrow knowingly, if a little puzzled that such a fine, pure specimen such as Ray Palmer would deign to hang around with the likes of Mick Rory and Leonard Snart. “I _see_. Well, let’s hope your good influence is rubbing off on these boys.” She smiled at them both, looking up to see Mick making his way back across the patio with a steaming mug of coffee and a fresh round of snacks.

“Here ya go, Linda. Just how you like it.” He set the mug down as gently as Mick really could do anything (a little slopped over the side but that was by the by) and took up the empty seat.

If Ray hadn’t known any better he’d have said Mick almost looked _nervous_ , perched as he was leaning forward with his hands clasped on the table, not fidgeting with a lighter, his eyes darting between his shoes and Linda’s eyes. Ray of course knew that the older boy couldn’t possibly be, given that if he said so he’d end up upside down in a trashcan somewhere, friends or not.

“So how have you been, Mick?” Linda eyed him as he scratched the back of his head.

“Alright, I guess.”

“No trouble at school?”

“Nothin’ more than usual. I haven’t put anyone in the hospital, if that’s what you’re asking.” Mick cleared his throat, averting his eyes as the woman took out a pad and pen from her blazer pocket and scribbled down a few notes.

“I see. And your studies?”

At this Mick actually brightened up, pulling himself up to sit straight, and lifting his chin a little. “We just done our midterms a few weeks ago.”

“And? How’d you do, Mick?”

“I passed most of ‘em.” The boy was grinning, now, like a kid about to tell his parents he won first place in a competition. “And I got a _B_ _minus_ in one of them!”

Linda snapped her head up, the genuinely startled look on her face quickly morphing into a proud smile. “Oh yeah? What in?”

“ _Physics._ ” Mick reached across the table to ruffle Ray’s hair. “There was this great question on _combustion…_ Been hanging out with this nerd for so long I think I actually learnt something, ya know?”

“Well I’m proud of you, Mick. Keep this up ‘til the end of the year and who knows where you could be.”

Mick nodded enthusiastically. “That’s the plan. I’m already maybe three quarters of the way through to a deposit on my own apartment. Planning to get out of my aunt’s hair once I’m done with high school, ya know. Move into the city. Be my own man.”

“As long as that man doesn’t get thrown back in jail I’ll have done by job. But I’m sure your friends here will look out for you.”

Mick nodded again, slinging Len and Ray an appreciative look.

“You know what,” Linda continued, wrapping her hand around her mug, “how about we go finish up in the kitchen? I have some paperwork I need you to sign through and I’d like to pop my head in on your aunt and see how she’s doing.”

“Yeah, alright.” Mick stood up, grabbing a cookie for the road as it were, and he and Linda disappeared back inside the house.

As the backdoor clicked shut, Len squeezed Ray’s shoulders again. Ray had almost forgotten the other boy’s arm around him.

“So _that_ was Linda...” Len exhaled deeply, keeping his arm put.

“She, uh, seems nice, I guess?” Ray threw a glance at Snart, the older boy’s slightly stubbled cheek not far from his own. “Not that I’ve met any other parole officers, so I don’t actually have anything to compare her to.”

Len turned his head toward him, rewarding him with his signature smirk and suddenly pulling him sideways, so Ray’s shoulder was pressed into Snart’s chest and his head was tucked under his chin. Ray couldn’t help it, he yelped at the sudden tug, his chair nearly toppling and sending him careering further into Snart’s lap.

It didn’t, though, and Ray was left half-on-half-off his own seat, one leg dangling in mid air as Snart held him playfully against himself.

“You’re cute, Raymond.”

Ray gawped, one arm stuck against Snart’s thigh. “I’m what?”

“ _Cute_. I mean, Linda could be far worse but a parole officer can never be _nice_. They exist almost purely to spoil your fun and catch you out.”

Ray tried to twist his head up to get a better look at Len’s face, but succeeded only in scraping his temple to his cheek along the boy’s jaw. He settled for that, his free arm finding purchase on the leather of the older boy’s jacket sleeve.

“You say things like that but I haven’t seen or heard about you doing _anything_ outside the law since I met you, Len.”

“Well you obviously haven’t been paying hard enough attention.”

“Bullcrap.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Len raised his eyebrows at the Kindergarten grade cuss.

Ray wiggled a little, shimmying himself onto Len’s lap a little more until Snart practically gave up and yanked him over by the waistband of his jeans, so Ray ended up ass planted sideways on Len’s thighs, his back angled and resting on his shoulder and bicep.

“I hate to stick it to your ego, Len, but a daring criminal mastermind you are _not_. I don’t think you’ve taken a single weekend off looking after Lisa in the last three months, let alone an evening. Unless you’re dragging your sister with you on these secretive heists, you haven’t had the _opportunity_.”

Snart shook his head. “I could be running a drug ring from the comfort of my own home, couldn’t I?”

“Well sure, but I _doubt it_.” Ray cleared his throat and put on the best Snart voice he could manage. “I’m Leonard Snart and I’m such a _bad boy_ , I’ll rob you blind but I have to get home by 3:30 to look after my baby sister. Here, let me take your wallet for you. Would you like some tea? I’ll just stir in the sugar with my butterfly knife-”

Snart shoved him, hard, off of his lap and Ray caught himself just in time. He landed in a surprisingly sturdy crouch, leaping up before Len could get to his feet and haring off to the other end of the yard in fits of laughter. Len was hot on his tail, chasing the younger boy round and round in circles, dodging past the swing set where Lisa was still playing, giggling at the two boys.

They circled each other like wolves, Snart watching Ray with a predator’s gaze while Ray searched for an opening, a chance of escape. _There_! He took it as Snart glanced to the right, running to his left at full tilt.

But it had been a feint, and Len’s arm shot out, catching Ray’s elbow and unbalancing him. Ray tripped, falling to the grass and Snart was on him like a lioness at a zebra’s jugular. They wrestled, briefly, but Ray was no match.

Though he’d grown some few inches he was still scrawny as hell, easily outgunned by Len’s superior muscle mass. Snart had pinned him against the lawn, straddling his hips to keep him still, his hands tight at his wrists a he brought his head down close to Ray’s, leering at him with a wolfish grin.

“Gotcha.”

Chest heaving, Ray slowly became aware of the pressure of Len on his body; the warmth of his breath against his mouth and nose. He was still in his leather jacket, but his t-shirt had ridden up on one side revealing a swathe of pale skin, and his hair was distinctly out of its well groomed place. With his face flushed with colour, a little sweat on his skin and the scent of stale smoke and leather that just _was_ Len, an intrusive thought told Ray that he could almost have been post-coital.

Ray’s stomach did summersaults.

 A deep, gravelly voice cut across the yard, Ray’s head turning to see Mick standing, arms folded, a few feet away. “If you two are that desperate then _fine_ , but you ain’t using _my_ bed.”

“You’re just jealous.” It was Snart that spoke, his eyes unwavering from Ray’s face.

If he hadn’t been already, Ray knew he’d be hard pressed to find a tomato redder than his face. But, ignoring this or simply taking in his stride (you never could tell with Len), the older boy continued to grin, rocking back onto his heels and grabbing Ray’s hand.

He hauled Ray up and stood in the same motion, dusting off his ragged jeans and sauntering as coolly as he could over to Mick, not stopping until, from where Ray stood, they were practically touching.

“Anytime you want me, just say the word.” Snart winked at the bigger man, pulling out a fresh cigarette from his pocket and placing between his lips.

Tongue pressed firmly in his cheek, Mick pulled his lighter and flicked it open, sparking the flame. He held it steady as Len leaned in, lighting the end of the smoke. He took a drag slowly, letting Mick pick the cigarette from his mouth before he blew a cloud of smoke against Mick’s chest and stepped back, a smug look on his face.

Standing awkwardly by the swing set, Lisa seemingly paying no attention to her brother at all, Ray tugged down his own shirt where it, too, had ridden up and tried to process the last minute or so. What had he just witnessed? What had he, before that, been part of? Honestly, he had no idea, but it all seemed pretty _intimate._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I hitting the past coldwave too hard? Nah, I don't think so.


	3. Juxtaposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray and Sydney bash heads, Ray's mom wants to meet Leonard.   
> Lewis has really excelled himself this time at being a terrible father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** MUCH MORE SEVERE ABUSE DESCRIPTIONS AHEAD, use of the word queer as a slur, and use of the word 'faggot'.

Even with the midterms over, it wasn’t long before Ray and Len found the work piling up again. They had three months or so until the year’s finals, but the teachers seemed to be acting like they were just around the corner.

_“Make sure you have your revision timetables ready!”_

_“The best way to ensure your success is hard work!”_

It seemed to be the same message on repeat, a stuck record at the end of every class. Luckily for Ray, he seemed to have instilled some sort of newfound work ethos in Snart and they were getting a solid three hours almost every day. Even Mick, on occasion, would sit down with them and scribble out some homework in his big, messy handwriting, and his teachers seemed pleasantly surprised that his _attendance_ at the very least was going up.

Neither Len nor Mick had mentioned what had happened in Mick’s yard with the cigarette that afternoon, and Ray felt almost embarrassed at the thought of bringing it up. He tried to ignore it, to forget that it even happened, but somehow it seemed to sneak back into his mind. Usually when he was trying to get to sleep. Visions of Len leaning in to Mick plagued him in the blackness of his room, Len’s mouth hovering tantalisingly close to Mick’s hand as he lit his cigarette from the flame he held so still.

Ray tried to push these thoughts away, but even so... he caught himself more than once staring when Mick and Len sat together, or shared a smoke, or play-fought after school. It was as if part of him was trying to glean something more about what he’d seen, or even catch them out doing... well, _something_.

_It’s not like I’m jealous,_ Ray tried to convince himself, _they’ve known each other for years, of course they’ll have a close friendship_.

At home, his brother caught him as he was staring off into the distance almost wistfully. Sydney, of course, took it upon himself to sneak up on him and bellow into his ear to get his attention, Ray almost screaming as he jumped out of his skin.

“Thinking about your _boyfriend_ again, Ray?” Sydney sneered, stepping smoothly to the side of the pencil sharpener that was quite suddenly lobbed in his direction.

“Shut _up_ , he’s _not_ my boyfriend, Syd how many times do I have to tell you?” Ray glared at his brother, ignoring the sudden heat in his cheeks and chalking it up to his elevated sympathetic nervous system on account of the _asshole_ who he just happened to share DNA with.

“I’ll believe that when I see it. You _literally_ spend all of your free time with him and that gorilla you call Mick, I’m surprised you haven’t asked him over for _dinner_ yet. Mom would be so _pleased_ to meet her future _son-in-law_.”

Ray’s hand tightened on an eraser, his eyes shooting daggers. He waited until Syd sighed glanced away, evidently about to launch into some long soliloquy, before hurling the eraser with all his might. Caught entirely off guard, Sydney Palmer was blissfully unaware of the rubber projectile until it bounced clean off his temple.

Snapping his head around, he shot Ray a look of offense, wrinkling his nose in disgust like he’d just stepped in a fresh turd, before his face settled into something much more demonic.

Ray’s heart sank – he knew that look far too well. “Don’t-” he started, but Sydney had already turned tail and was racing down the stairs.

“ _Moooooommm_! Ray wants to have his _friend_ over!”

Ray buried his head in his hands. There was no escaping it, now. He was going to have to invite Leonard Snart to dinner.

* * *

 

 

It was Friday morning and Ray had spent most of his bus ride to school going over and over in his head how exactly he’d bring it up.

_“Oh hey Len my mom cooks really good meatballs you should come over next week-”_

No, _God_ no. Did Snart even like meatballs? Ray had no idea.

_“Hey, Len we always go to Mick’s after school why don’t we change it up and go to mine? You can stay for dinner and-”_

Not a chance.

_“Der Leonard, I formally invite you to attend a dinner at the Palmer residence-”_  

Arrgh! Why was it so hard to do something so simple, so _mundane_? People invited their friends over _all the time_. Maybe it was because Ray had never really _had_ those sorts of friends before. Maybe it was because the thought of Snart, with all his street smarts and maturity, would take one look at his (much loved) dinosaur bedsheets or the too-small cowboy costume he _refused_ to get rid of in closet, or the Darth Vader poster on the back of his door and suddenly not want to be friends with him anymore.

At fourteen, Ray was already younger than him by two years, and he did his best to be as adult as possible. He didn’t want Len or Mick or anyone to think less of him, he didn’t want them to throw away the odd friendship they’d developed the last few months.

Ray grit his teeth. And even if there was the _slightest,_ most _tiny_ possibility that there could ever be anything between him and Len, he knew the older boy would never be interested in someone who still had a stuffed bear in their bed.

The bus clattered to a stop and the schoolkids filed off noisily, Ray thanking the driver and stepping off onto the curb. Leaning against the wall, sleeves rolled up and hands shoved deep into his pockets was the hulking frame of Mick, an unlit cigarette behind his ear.

Ray walked over to him, nodding a greeting before looking quickly around.

“No sign of Len?” He tried to keep his voice natural – steady, even – but he could taste a hint of relief on his own tongue.

Mick shook his head. “Nah, not yet. Prob’ly got held up with Lisa or some shit, ya know?”

Ray nodded affirmation, leaning up against the wall himself, settling down to wait until the older boy arrived.

Ten, then fifteen minutes passed by and the clock was creeping ever closer to the start of the day. Much longer and they’d be late to first period. Feet itching to move, Ray was just about to give up and head to class when he spotted an approaching figure down the street. He nudged Mick in the side and gestured towards it.

As the figure came closer, it became apparent that it was in fact Snart, though if it wasn’t for his customary leather jacket Ray could well have been mistaken. His usually so deliberately styled hair was a mess, a grim look on his face and his hands clenched by his sides as he strode, wincing slightly with each step, toward the school. Uncharacteristically, he was also wearing a large pair of dark, wrap-around sunglasses.

“Aw hell.” Mick was already moving, stepping out into the middle of the sidewalk, making himself into a human blockade.

Ray could only watch with wide eyes as Snart neared, and didn’t slow. Looking straight ahead, the boy didn’t change his course.

Mick planted his feet firmly on the flagstones, grim determination set on his face as he waited for the inevitable.

At the last moment Snart turned a little, shoving his shoulder into Mick’s in an effort to unbalance him. It worked, for a second, and Len stepped through the gap past his friend. But Mick recovered quickly, a large hand swinging round to clasp Len’s upper arm, pulling him to a halt.

A split second later Snart was spinning on his heels, a haymaker from his free arm headed straight for Mick’s jaw. Mick let the punch land, using Len’s own momentum to pull him off balance and in one swift movement turning him and pushing him none too gently against the wall.

Ray took quick step to the side, away from his friends, as Snart impacted hard against the bricks. For a moment Ray thought Len was going to escalate; kick or punch or spit at Mick who had his hands firmly on his shoulders, pinning him where he stood. Snart certainly had a look about him that he might; a pure self-destructive glint. But after a second he slumped back, head dropping down as he released a breath.

Mick stayed where he was, slowly taking his hands from Snart’s shoulders and moving them to the arms of the sunglasses.

“Don’t.”

It was so quiet Ray could barely hear it; a small, pained sound from Len’s mouth. He stepped closer again just as Mick ever so delicately pulled the glasses from Snart’s face. Ray felt his jaw drop and his stomach clench, his heart quickening in his chest.

Len’s right eye was _purple_ , a deep bruise splayed across his eye socket, the lid swollen a little. It was horrific. Ray couldn’t help but stare, frozen still by a sudden anger that gripped at him, wrapping itself around his spinal cord and squeezing until the fire burned in his brain. His eyes drifting from the black eye, Ray suddenly noticed other, smaller details on Len’s face. There was a little dried blood in his nostril, his lip was split though scabbed over now, and there was a lesser, more green bruise at his jaw.

Eyes travelling down to Len’s collar, Ray saw a series of small, circular bruises at Len’s throat. He felt sick. His hands were shaking. All he wanted to do was-

“I’LL KILL HIM!” Mick roared, his mouth twisted into a vicious snarl as he clenched his fists tight. “I’ll do it Len I _fucking_ swear it. What _happened_?”  

Snart shook his head, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose. His eyelids fluttered open a second later as he composed himself, looking from the furious face of Mick to Ray’s pallid one and back again before speaking. “Lisa was playing by herself in the living room. I was in the kitchen fixing her dinner when I heard-” he swallowed, “when I heard the bottle smash. I ran in as quick as I could. Lisa was backed up against the wall, she was crying; wailing. Wasn’t bleeding that I could see, though. She was just _scared_.” Len looked back to Ray to offer an explanation. “He – Lewis – came at her with a broken bottle six months ago when I was in juvie. I wasn’t there to protect her, Ray. He hurt her. Badly. This time I _was_ there.

 “I wasn’t going to let him touch her, not again. So I got in between them. Told Lisa to run up to her room. Luckily she did, she’s such a brave girl, so she ran up the stairs while _he_ was shouting, screaming at her to come back. ‘ _I’ll teach you a damn lesson, girl_.’ He kept saying it. Over and over.” Snart shook his head in disgust. “So we fought. I knocked the bottle out his hands but he’s heavy, he’s got _weight_ behind him and he doesn’t pull his punches.

“He got me on the ground, hand around my throat while he beat into me. But I had a pocket knife. Managed to grab it, jab it into his thigh. Didn’t hit any arteries, but it was enough to make him stop. Soon as he let me go I was on my feet, beating back on him with my fists just like he did to me. Split my knuckles open on his thick fucking skull but I knocked him out. Went up to check on Lisa. We locked ourselves in my room over night. She slept on my bed, I didn’t sleep.

“This morning I went downstairs first but the bastard was gone. Fuck knows where, but he’ll be back. I got Lisa ready for school as quickly as possible, packed her some clothes and her favourite toy up in a backpack and took her to school.” Snart stopped, finally, eyes fixed on a crack in the sidewalk.

Ray boggled. If he wasn’t angry before then he was now. He could feel it, pulsing through him, lighting fires all around his body. Mick, similarly, was a picture of fury; a rabid wolf locked in cage ready to be released at a second’s hesitation.

But then all at once Mick was calm, taking a deep breath and squaring himself up. “I’ll do it, Lenny. Pop him right between the eyes. I ain’t letting this happen again.”

Snart shook his head. “You can’t, Mick. You think I wouldn’t have already done that? Social services would come and they’d take Lisa away. I’m not old enough to be her legal guardian.”

Flaring his nostrils, Mick considered his options. “What about your grandpa? You’re a smooth talker, Len, and it’s only for two years. You can win him over. Get him to agree to take Lisa on, you as well. You ain’t gonna be a hassle. You look after her anyways.”

“...alright. If I can get him to agree. But I want to be the one to do it.”

But Mick was shaking his head quickly. “Nuh uh, Len, like _hell_ you are. You ain’t _never_ killed anybody before.”

“I have to start _somewhere_ , right? Patricide seems fitting.”

“And how you gonna do it without being caught, huh? You’re the first person they’d suspect. They’d put you away. Maybe even try you as an adult.” Mick folded his arms. “I’ll do it.”

“You’ve got to be _shitting_ me!” Ray winced as he heard his voice crack on the emphasis, but he pushed past it. He was staring at his friends, terror threatening behind his eyes. “You can’t _seriously_ be talking about this. About... about _killing_ someone. _Murder_.”

Mick looked like he was about to open his mouth, but shrugged as Snart jumped in for him, pushing off of the wall and turning to face Ray. Len only had an inch or so on him, now, but he suddenly seemed massive, his anger and pain shrinking Ray down to nothing more than a speck.

“He _attacked_ Lisa. An eight year old girl. If I hadn’t been there she could have been hurt, hell she could have been _killed_. It wasn’t the first time and it _won’t_ be the last. Killing Lewis is the only way he’ll _ever_ stop, Ray. You have to understand that!”

Valiantly meeting Snart’s eyes Ray shook his head. “Murder isn’t justice, Len.”

“What other choice do I have?”

Before him, Snart looked broken. How had the system failed him so extravagantly that he, a sixteen year old boy, felt that his _only_ option to escape his abusive father and protect his sister was to commit _murder_? Sure, Len was no angel, but was he prepared to _end_ a life? How had he slipped so far down between the cracks that he saw himself as unreachable, un- _save_ able by anything less than a capital offense?

“Prison.”

“ _What_?” Len blinked.

“You put him back in prison.” Ray hadn’t thought about it until now, but it made perfect sense. At once all the little cogs in his mind were ticking, coming together to build up the foundations of a plan. “You need him to go away. You don’t need him _dead,_ you just need him _gone._ For two years. It won’t take much. You said he has a parole officer, right? Any violation of his parole can send him straight back to jail. Not to mention getting caught committing an actual _crime_. We already have half the case. _Look at you_. That’s battery, assault, child abuse, whatever.” Ray was starting to grin now, his mind fleshing out the bones of the idea.

Snart had crossed his arms and was looking at him sceptically, head tilted to the side as he rolled the idea around his mind.

“Kid’s got a point.” Mick had moved to behind Len, a head taller than him at least and twice as wide. “Much as I hate ‘em, if we go to the cops we got proof.”

“ _Fine_. But we need a plan. Something airtight... but we can figure out the details later. We need to get through today first.” Snart ran his hands through his hair, doing his best to slick it down to some effect. “I can’t go back to the house, not on my own and not with Lisa, not until this has been dealt with. Which leaves me effectively homeless for the time being-”

“Youcanstayatmine,” Ray blurted it out without thinking, both Mick and Len snapping their heads toward him as he licked his lips and tried again. “I mean, you can stay at mine. If you want. Tonight. My, uh, my parents won’t mind. I mean, if Lewis is looking for you then he won’t, you know, find you at my house because... well, because he doesn’t know who I am, right?”

Len tilted his head a little and considered. “Sounds reasonable, Raymond, but what about Lisa?”

Mick cut in before Ray had the chance. “I’ll swing by her school and pick her up. She can stay over at mine. We’ve got a ton of Disney movies on VHS and plenty of space, she won’t get bored and I’ll keep her safe.”

Len frowned. “I should stay with her.”

Resting a hand on Len’s shoulder comfortingly, Mick dropped his voice. “You can come over tomorrow, stay as long as you need. But tonight, man, you’re too high strung. You need to eat, sleep, take a _shower_. Get your head together somewhere. I got a feeling Ray’s house will have all those middle class cushy things like loofah mitts and... _coasters_ and sheets with a really high thread count, ya know? Take the night off. Worry about yourself for once in a while.”

Looking between them, Ray realised that Mick was right. Behind all that anger, Snart looked _exhausted_ , both physically and mentally, and he needed _rest_.

“You know,” Ray began, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, “I don’t think you should be in school today, Len. I can go to the office, call home. My mom isn’t in work until midday, and she’ll be back from dropping Sydney at school by now. I explain the situation, she’ll come pick us up, drive us to my house. You can sleep, I’ll study. How does that sound?”

For a moment Snart didn’t say a word, eyes downcast and his bottom lip between his teeth. When he looked up he looked to Mick first, who met his eyes with a prompting stare. Finally Snart sighed and turned to Ray.

“Sounds good, haircut.”

* * *

 

 

Ray didn’t so much as lie but bend the truth a little in a few places. It wasn’t like he could all-out tell his mom that his best friend Leonard had been systematically abused for most of his childhood by his asshole of a father and needed a safe refuge to sleep. No, if he said that his mom would freak out and call the cops straight away, which was _not_ what they needed. (Len had to speak to his grandpa first to make sure Lisa wasn’t going to be thrown into the care system.)

Instead, he explained earnestly that Lenny had gotten into a fight with his dad the night before and didn’t want to go home just yet. He had a few scrapes a bruises but it all looked worse than it was, though he’d been up all night and was in no fit state for school.

“Just one night! I promise. You said you wanted to have him over for dinner, anyway... Yes, mom. Yes, mom. No I don’t think he’s allergic to anything. Roast chicken sounds great. Yeah, he can stay in my room. What am _I_ going to do? Well I’m way ahead of the class again I’ll just study from the textbook- Yes, he’ll probably need clean underwear for tomorrow. Okay, mom. Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll see you soon. Love you, bye! Bye.” Ray hung up the receiver and gave a small smile to the receptionist watching him intently.

“You’re lucky the Principal likes you, Palmer. I wouldn’t let you get out of class so easy if you were my boy.”

Muttering his polite agreement, Ray inclined his head and shuffled as quickly as he could out of the office, breaking into a run two steps out of the door.

Mick waited with them until Ray’s mom drove up, thumping Snart on the back with the flat of his hand in solidarity as he got into the car.

Turning to Ray, Mick furrowed his eyebrows. “Look after him, Boy Scout.”

“Scout’s honour,” Ray saluted, earning himself a rough hair tousle from the bigger man before he slipped into the car next to Len.

They drove home mostly in silence, Mrs Palmer pursing her lips to begin with at the state of Len’s face but saying nothing. For his part, Snart rested his chin on his hand and stared out of the window at the city passing by them, lost in thought.

“Well, this is it!” Mrs Palmer pulled up the handbrake sharply and took the keys from the ignition. “I’m going to be going to work soon, boys, but I’ll be back around six. Now, Leonard. There are fresh towels in the linen closet, you go in and get a shower. I’ve already laid out some fresh clothes you can borrow. They’re on Ray’s bed, don’t worry. And I got the foam mattresses out of the attic and some fresh sheets. Ray, honey, you can make up a bed for Leonard on your floor, can’t you?”

Ray nodded. “Yes mom.”

“And there’s some leftovers in the refrigerator you can heat up for lunch. Don’t forget, your father will be home at about 3:30. He’ll put the chicken in the oven and go pick Sydney up, so it’s up to you to make sure the house doesn’t burn down, alright?”

“Yes, mom, I can do that.”

Mrs Palmer smiled. “Good boy. Now you better get some school work done, Ray, not just playing with your robotics projects okay? And Leonard, dear, sleep as long as you want.” She narrowed her eyes at Ray suddenly. “And don’t you disturb him, Raymond, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

Before the two boys knew it they were being shunted through the front door of the Palmer residence, loaded up with snacks and clean towels while Ray’s mother whipped around the house like a whirlwind, finally grabbing her keys, squeezing Snart’s shoulder affectionately and kissing Ray on the forehead before going back out the door.

Snart seemed to be in a state of latent shock. He just stood there, clutching the towel to his chest, eyes wide as he took in the house. The kitchen-diner was large, open plan, with marble worktops and a shiny new microwave on the counter, a range cooker aligned almost perfectly with the long, solid oak dining table, and a tall fridge-freezer in one corner atop sparkling linoleum.

Like a ghost he moved through the ground floor, feeling the hardwood flooring of the hall give way to plush carpet in the living room. Two large couches extended at right angles in the room, an armchair central to the widescreen television that sat on an expensive looking cabinet. On the other side of the room a pair of glass double doors looked out onto a wooden deck, a table and chairs set up with an umbrella just to their left, a lush green lawn that ran for at least fifty feet, maybe more, beyond the decking. There was a soccer net, a basketball hoop, and, to top it all off, a large wooden _playhouse_ with inbuilt swings and a red plastic slide. It was all so... _perfect_.

“You okay, Len?” Ray was behind Snart’s shoulder, mild concern painted on his face.

“Yeah, I’m... I’m good. You just, you have a nice house, is all.”

“Just wait ‘til you see the shower! C’mon, Len you need to get yourself cleaned up.”

“Alright.”

* * *

 

For Snart, it was all so surreal. Even Mick’s aunt’s place could never match up to this. The shower was good, the hot water steaming him clean and making the cuts on his face and ribs sting a little, but that was alright. Lo and behold, there hanging up next to the soap-on-a-rope was a loofah mitt, as foretold by Mick himself, which made him crack a smile.

He knew Ray was well off but he and his family really seemed to take the Barbie’s Dream House aesthetic and work it. He bet they even went on camping holidays in the summer. Len did his very best to think about how lucky Ray was, with such a loving, caring family, and not think about how unlucky he and Lisa were with their lot in life. But he supposed that, when your father is half-baked crook, ex-cop and alcoholic, there isn’t much room for playing happy families.

Leaving the shower was a chore, but wrapped up in the soft, white towel he’d been given it wasn’t much worse. He pattered barefoot to Raymond’s room, slipping on the flannel pyjamas that were folded on his pillow and slipping between the sheets of the little bed made up on the floor. ( _High thread count. Two for Mick._ )

Len pulled the duvet up to his chin and settled back on the pillows with a sigh. He was warm, he was clean, he was _safe_ ; tucked up in Raymond’s room with his friend downstairs. Lisa was at school, and Mick was going to look after her tonight. Lewis wouldn’t find her, wouldn’t _get_ her. Not tonight, not ever again. They were _safe_.

A small smile playing on his lips at the thought, Snart fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

The muffled sound of voices pulled him from slumber, and Snart sat up with a start, heart racing. _Where was he?_

_Ah._ He looked around the room, clocking the piles of textbooks, the Star Wars toys posed on one shelf, and the large ‘Periodic Table of Elements’ poster on one wall. _Ray’s house_.

He dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of pressed underpants and a clean t-shirt that had been left folded neatly on Ray’s bed, but opting for his own jeans and, naturally, his leather jacket. He found a comb on Ray’s desk and pulled it through his hair, frowning in the small mirror at the way it fluffed and curled without any product to keep it in place. It would have to do.

Cautiously, Len headed out and down the stairs, the voices getting louder and louder as he approached until their source was clear: the kitchen. Hands balled inside the sleeves of his jacket, Snart stepped through the open doorway and was suddenly bombarded with, well, _everything_. The smell hit him first, deliciously seasoned chicken being taken out of the oven and put to rest on the counter, mixed with roast potatoes and steamed vegetables. Then the sound: four voices (three male, one female) all talking at once, trying to be heard but somehow knitting together so that everyone understood what was going on, but above all Mrs Palmer – head of the household – dishing out orders left right and centre to prepare her family for the oncoming feast.

“Sydney! Stop that! Here Raymond take these to the table, oh _thank you_ darling you’re such a dear-” she turned and saw Leonard instantly, lurking awkwardly in the doorway, and gave him her biggest, warmest smile. “Leonard! How wonderful, I was just about to send Ray to wake you up. No, no, come, come! Let me take a look at you.”

Snart stepped into the centre of the kitchen, suddenly aware that the noise around him had stopped. Sydney looked as though he was about to open his mouth but Ray elbowed him sharply in ribs, giving Len a double thumbs up in the process. Mr Palmer, Ray’s father, busied himself setting the table, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his biceps. Mrs Palmer stepped close to him, her mouth pulled into a deep frown as she examined his face.

“The swelling has gone down quite a lot but you’re still quite purple. I’m sure it’ll start to fade in a few days. How are you feeling? Well rested, I hope.”

Len nodded once, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Thank you, Mrs Palmer, for letting me stay here.”

But she waved it off. “Oh don’t worry about it, Leonard, it’s no bother, really. Though I would have loved to have met you before all of this. Ray speaks so well of you.”

A snicker from Sydney was cut short by another elbow.

“Come on, now, go sit at the table. Dinner’s almost ready.”

And dinner was an affair indeed. It was alien, Snart realised, almost entirely. Never before in life, even before his sister was born, could he remember getting to sit up at the table as a family unit and eat, everyone asking about each other’s days. He sat next to Ray, across the table from Sydney, who kept looking at him like he was an exotic animal.

“I don’t think Syd’s ever seen anyone wear a leather jacket at the table before,” Ray whispered to him, “other than maybe Fonzie in reruns of Happy Days.”

This made Len snort, almost choking on a mouthful of potato. A little later, when Mrs Palmer brought out bowls and viennetta ice-cream, Snart found himself subject to the Spanish Inquisition from Ray’s dad about his future.

“Never really thought about it, Sir. I mean, there’s no way I can afford college without a scholarship, but uh, if I get one maybe...” he was pulling at straws here, but he remembered something that Ray had said to him back on his first day of class, “maybe structural engineering. I’m good at physics and math, so...”

Mr Palmer seemed roused by this, and spent the next ten minutes telling him in detail the best colleges he should apply to for the best course, what the career progression was like and what kind of salary he should expect to start and after five, then ten years. By the end of it all, Snart was almost sold on the idea. Those numbers sounded pretty big, and a salary like that could set Lisa up for life. Maybe even pay for her tuition too.

Dinner ended and the boys all pitched in to clean up, Snart loading up the dishwasher as Ray cleared the table, Sydney scrubbing mercilessly at the top of the range. Seemingly satisfied, Mr and Mrs Palmer retired to the living room to watch TV, leaving the boys to it.

Snart closed up the dishwasher and stared at the thing for a few seconds. “Raymond, how do you-”

“Huh, oh! Right,” Ray came hurrying over to help, “you just put the detergent into this little slot and then,” he turned the dial and pushed the button, “just like that. Easy, really.”

Snart nodded, though he was pretty sure dishwashers were run on some form of witchcraft. A loud scoffing noise behind him made him turn to see Sydney, arms folded, shaking his head.

“You mean that you don’t know how a _dishwasher_ works, Leonard?”

Snart could feel Ray bristle beside him, but he didn’t rise to the taunt. He’d dealt with much worse than this brat could ever throw at him. Instead, he opted for a deadpan response. “Nope. Never had one.”

“But _everyone_ at _my_ school has a dishwasher. But then again you go to a _public_ school, don’t you? I forget that they let _everyone_ in, no matter their uh,” Sydney waved his hand in front of him, “ _backgrounds._ ”

“Well then, you must feel _really_ out place, Sydney,” Snart examined his nails lazily as Syd gave him a puzzled look, “do you tell your friends that you’re a slave owner too, or do they just assume that from your attitude?”

Sydney’s face was a sight to behold. Shock, disbelief and anger all pooled into one, ugly, grimace. “I will _not_ be spoken to like that, especially not from some, some _queer_ delinquent living off of _welfare_!”

If Mick was here, Sydney’s face would be little more than a bloody mess. But Mick wasn’t here, and he doubted Ray’s parents would let him stay any longer if he beat on their favourite son. Snart calmly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette, smiling coolly.

“I’ve heard private school is worse than prison for pretty boys like you and your brother, Sydney.” Snart made a show of looking Syd up and down, making him shrink back under his gaze, “but then again, I only know about prison. I hope the seniors aren’t too rough with you in the locker rooms.” Snart slipped the cigarette between his lips and made for the door.

As he passed, Sydney – a picture of fury – spat a word at him that brought him to a sudden halt.

“ _Faggot._ ”

Again, the kid deserved a punching, but that just wasn’t a polite thing to do in someone else’s home. Instead, he did the next best thing. Snart _winked_ at him.

The colour draining from Sydney’s face, Len – Ray close on his heels – headed outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn't Sydney just a charming young man? (He's in private school because he needs extra special tuition and yet he's still nowhere near his brother~)


	4. Whiskey in the Jar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len finally opens up to Ray about his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** use y=mx+c to calculate the gradient of the increase in descriptions of abuse (note: it's pretty steep). AKA: Snart really, really opens up about the abuse. Also: suicide mentions, underage drinking, underage sex mentions. Isn't this a happy chapter?

“That was _amazing_!” Ray was almost buzzing, pacing round in a little circuit in front of Leonard as he leaned against the house, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Would have been more amazing if I’d punched him in the face.”

“Well, _yeah_ , but mom would be mad so I’m glad you didn’t,” Ray grinned, “but I’ve _never_ seen anyone talk to Syd like that. _Ever._ You really put him in his place.”

“Kid should watch his mouth.”

Ray came to a stop in front of Snart, shoving his hands into his pockets. It was dark outside, now, dusk having settled around eight. “How was your nap? Well, I don’t know if you can call eight hours a nap, but... yeah. Were you comfortable?”

Smiling softly, Snart nodded. “Yeah, it was good. Slept like a baby, not a care in the world. I uh,” Len looked at his feet, “I forgot what that was like. Sleeping somewhere you know is safe.”

Ray wrung his hands, unsure what to say. Instead, he walked over the deck to the table set and was about to pull over a chair when he felt Snart’s hand on his shoulder. Ray almost jumped, he hadn’t even heard his footsteps.

“You’ve _got_ to stop doing that, Len, you’ll make me piss myself one day.”

Len snickered. “Don’t tempt me. You’re too easy to play, Raymond. I could have done a thousand things that would have been worse than that.”

“Yeah, well,” Ray pulled out a chair and sat down heavily, “Mick’s done a lot worse to me in the past, God bless him.”

Snart took the chair next to him, crossing one leg over the other and sucking his smoke. Exhaling a cloud he lifted the cigarette into the air in a mock-toast. “To absent friends.”

Ray joined in with his own mimed glass. “To absent friends.”

“ _Shit_ , wait! Hold on-” Snart’s hand was suddenly delving into the inside pocket of his jacket. When it came out it was holding a snubby, squareish looking metallic container that sloshed when he set it down on the wooden table top. “You ever drink whiskey, Ray?”

Eyeing the container – _hipflask, it was a hipflask_ – Ray shook his head slowly. “I had a sip of bourbon last Christmas but other than that, no.” He watched as Snart unscrewed the lid and brought it to his lips, taking a quick swig, before offering it to Ray.

“Well here’s your chance to, if you want.”

Like everything with Snart, there was no pressure in his voice. He and Mick had never forced Ray to do anything. They’d offered him smokes, Mick had offered him beer, even said he could borrow one of the porno tapes Mick had stashed under his bed if he wanted, but there was never any expectation. The offer was always there if he wanted it, but it was just as fine if he didn’t take it. And up until now, Ray never did. (Though he did sneak a look at the covers of the videotapes once, and felt dirty for the next 24 hours.)

But there was something different this time. Maybe it was in the wake of Len’s vicious tear down of his brother, or maybe it was the way Len was sitting there, cigarette in hand, finally looking at ease after a nightmare of a day. Maybe Ray didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he reached forward and took the flask from Snart’s hand, their fingers brushing ever so slightly as he gripped it.

Bringing it to his lips, Ray took a swig and nearly spluttered. He swallowed his gulp as quickly as he could, the liquid burning his tongue and his throat, the fumes going up to his nasopharynx, filling his sinuses and making his eyes water.

Snart was grinning widely. “Sorry, should have warned you. It’s strong stuff.”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s _good_.” Ray lied, or at least he thought he lied, feeling the fire in his belly. To prove his point he took another swig.

“Careful there, haircut. Too much of that and I’ll be able to light your breath with a match.”

Ray grinned back at his friend, passing over the bottle. “You know, Len...”

“What?”

“I don’t actually know very much about you at all. I mean, like... I know some stuff. Current stuff. But I know almost nothing about your past.”

“Is that so?” Snart took another swig.

“Well, you don’t talk about it much, if at all...”

“You not thought there be a _reason_ I don’t talk about it?” Snart raised his eyebrows.

Eyes wide, Ray backpedalled. “Oh crap yeah of course, I didn’t mean to- If you’re not _comfortable_ talking about your past or anything that’s... that’s totally fine!” He reached for the hipflask and took a deep swig, hoping to recover from his almighty fuck up as fast as possible and through any means.

“Hm. Well, you’re my friend, Ray. And that deserves you the right to know more about me than most, but like hell am I sitting here and giving you my life’s story.”

Lowering the bottle, Ray looked at him sheepishly. “Of course.”

“Buuut... If you have anything you want to ask...” Snart shrugged, “ask it. I can’t promise you an answer but, what the hell. It’s not like we have anything else to do tonight, unless you want to dig out Monopoly from that big ass stack of board games in your room.”

“Really? Are you sure? The asking not the Monopoly, I want to stay your friend after tonight, Len.”

“I’m sure. _Hit me_.”

“Alright... uh...” Ray wracked his brain for something to ask, “what’s your favourite colour?”

“Starting simple, are we? Alright, I’ll bite. Black. Or blue, if you’re taking black as technically not a colour due to it being an _absence_ of light.”

“Blue it is,” Ray grinned, “you know me so well. Um... day or night?”

“Night. Much easier to sneak around in the dark.”

“Summer or winter?”

“Winter, definitely.”

“Fire or ice?”

“ _Ice_. Come on, Raymond, you can do better than this.” Snart took another long drag of his cigarette.

“Alright then, _Leonard_... Girls or boys?”

Len snapped his eyes to him, a smirk on his lips. “ _That’s_ more like it.”

“So?” Ray reached for the flask, “which is it?”

“ _Both_.”

Ray felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest. “Kissed a girl?”

“Yes.”

“Kissed a _boy_?”

“Naturally.” Snart liked where this was going. Ray was easy to embarrass, so if he pursued this line of questioning Len was going to have a lot of fun turning Raymond’s ears pink.

“...are you a-” Ray swallowed, “-a virgin?”

Len blinked. That was a little faster than he thought the Boy Scout would go but he’d roll with it. “ _No._ ”

Ray was silent for a minute, his fingers tapping incessantly on the table top. The next question, Snart realised, must be the result of the liquor because the Ray Palmer he was used to would never _dare_ ask something like that.

“Who did you lose it to, and when? Your virginity that is.”

“You sure you want to know?” Snart raised his eyebrows at the boy, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“Yes. I mean, I’d tell you when and where and who to I lost _my_ virginity, but I still have it. The furthest I’ve gone with anyone was when I kissed Maisy Greenfield in fourth grade, but then she started crying and told me she got married to Sydney by the slide in recess, so we couldn’t be together. Broke my nine year old heart...”

“Fine. The first person I had sex with, ergo the person I lost my virginity to, was _Mick._ ”

Ray knew something like that was coming, but it didn’t stop his jaw dropping open. “Mick!?”

“Yeah, _Mick._ Let’s see... I would have been, what, fourteen? The first time I went to juvie.” Len kept his voice steady, not a hint of embarrassment or real reluctance to be seen.

“Was that before or after he saved your life?”

“ _After_. Managed to get transferred to his cell – Mick isn’t the kind of person who plays well with others, so in their infinite wisdom the Juvenile Detention Centre had chosen not to give him a roommate. They were happy to move me from my overcrowded block to Mick’s.”

“And, what, you let him fuck you as payment for saving your skin?” Ray grabbed for the hipflask again.

Snart gave it to him, narrowing his eyes. “ _No_. I convinced him to let me suck him off for _that_. He was adamant that he didn’t want anything from me, but I told him that wasn’t a solid business model.”

“So, what? You got him to do things for you and you paid him in sexual favours?” Ray could feel the heat spreading from his chest to his neck and cheeks but he ignored it.

“In a way. I was little; scrawny, even. Knew I’d be a target, it’d already happened once. Mick was big, even then. Big and scary and volatile. No one fucked with him. If I stuck with him there was no way anyone would _dare_ come near me. But we couldn’t always be around each other. I had to have a backup...”

Ray nodded enthusiastically, sipping from the hipflask. “So you became his prison wife, right?”

Len snorted. “For all intents and purposes, _yeah_. If everyone thought I wasn’t Mick’s friend but his _property_ , then even if I wasn’t around him I was _untouchable_.”

“That’s pretty smart, Snart.” Ray giggled.

“I mean, it was all a charade. Mick only acted like I belonged to him when we were around the other inmates. On our own he was just, well, _Mick_. I came up with the plans, the schemes as it were. But we ended up sleeping together anyway. _Authenticity._ And the rest.”

Ray made a small ‘o’ with his mouth as some more cogs fitted together in his slightly addled brain. “So _that’s_ what that thing was the other day.”

Snart fixed him with a questioning stare. “What _thing_?”

Ray waved his hands around a bit for emphasis. “You know, that thing. With the cigarette. Where he lit it for you in your mouth.”

Len sat back in his chair and swiped the flask from the table top. “Yeah. Used to do that in the yard to make a point to the other kids who owned my ass.”

There was a brief silence between them as Ray studied the cracks in the wood of the table before finally speaking up. “So are you two like, still together?”

“Me and Mick?” Snart shook his head, “nope. Not like, dating or seeing each other or anything. I’m open for a friends with benefits kind of thing but I don’t really do well with _relationships_ , Raymond. Me and Mick is more of an ‘in prison’ deal.”

“That’s good.” Ray was trying to flake off something on the edge of the table.

Len raised his eyebrows again. “Is it?”

Head shooting up, Ray realised what he’d said and paled. “I mean. Uh. Not for me. For you. And Mick. That you have that kind of relationship when you’re... in jail. Um.” Wincing, Ray stopped digging the hole he’d created and gave Snart a pleading look.

Taking the hint, Len switched topics with only the smallest of eye rolls. “You going to ask me anything else, Palmer?”

“Sure! Uh... was your dad always such a scumbag?” Ray said with relief, before inwardly kicking himself. That was not the best subject change he could have made.

“Scumbag? _Always_. But Lewis only became the abusive shitstain of a human being he is now after he got locked up the first time. Tried to steal the Maximillian Emerald, got caught like the waste of oxygen piece of shit thief he is. Five years later he comes out of prison. Before he got put away he was a cop, a shitty, corrupt cop but an okay dad and an alright husband. When he comes out he’s not my father any more. Not the one I remember.

“He’s angry all the time, starts drinking. I do something wrong and he _hits_ me. Never laid a hand on me before. Tells me it’s a man’s world out there, dog eat dog. He’s got to teach me a _lesson_.” Snart spat onto the ground with venom. “Nine months later along comes Lisa, and she’s this beautiful little baby. But she cries and cries at night and mom can’t get her to stop. Lewis threatens to smother her, but mom’s there, barricading the door with her own body. He hits her, again and again. Takes off his belt and just keeps hitting. I thought mom should be screaming, crying in pain but she doesn’t. She kneels there and takes every hit knowing that if she moves a muscle Lewis will get to Lisa.”

If Ray had been disgusted at what Lewis had done to Len’s face it was nothing compared to the utter revulsion he felt now. He wanted to throw up.

Snart continued, eyes fixed on a point in space. “The beatings don’t stop. Mom protects me as much as she can, but more often then not we both end up getting hit. Three years later, mom can’t take it any more. She can’t leave, she doesn’t have any money, she doesn’t have anywhere to go. She doesn’t want to let me or my sister alone with _him_ but she’s at the edge of it all. She tells me she loves me, presses a pocket knife into my hand and tells me to take care of my sister. I tell her I will. Then she walks out of the door and doesn’t come back. Threw herself off a bridge. I was twelve years old.”

Ray was shaking. Anger, hatred, sorrow; he was fit to burst. Part of him, a _big_ part of him, regretted his earlier eagerness to talk Mick out of killing him. Murder wasn’t justice, but some people just didn’t deserve to be _alive_.

He wanted to be able to comfort his friend. He wanted to wrap him up and hug him and tell him that everything was going to be alright, that they were going to send Lewis away for _long, long time._ He didn’t care how, but Ray knew he would come up with something brilliant. Something airtight.

Without thinking Ray reached across the table to where Snart’s hand was resting by the hipflask and covered it with his own.

But at the contact Snart flinched away violently, snapping his hand to his chest and fixing Ray with wide eyes, his pupils blown.

Ray stammered an apology. “ _Jesus_ Len I’m so sorry, I didn’t think, I should have thought-”

Snart regained his composure, taking a few deep breaths and shaking his head slowly. “Ray, Ray, _Raymond_. Stop. It’s fine. Honestly. No harm done, see?” he waggled his hand comically in the air before putting it down straight on top of Ray’s and gently squeezing his palm. “It’s alright. You just caught me off guard.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Shhh I know. It’s alright. I’m okay.” Len didn’t move his hand from Ray’s, letting him calm down. When his breathing had returned to normal, Snart squeezed his hand a little again, but didn’t take it away. “You alright, Raymond?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, I shouldn’t be the one that isn’t fine,” he ran his free hand through his hair and sighed, “you sure know how to talk someone down from panic.”

Smiling softly, Snart shrugged, “I do it with Lisa all the time. Either she panics and I sit with her and hold her hand until she’s okay; or she doesn’t panic and I sit with her and hold her hand until she’s okay.”

“Well, you have nice hands,” Ray twisted his arm over to flip his hand, so his palm was pressed against Snart’s, “they’re very soft. And warm. And...” he interlocked their fingers and squeezed Len’s hand in return. “Thank you.”

Running his tongue over his bottom lip, Snart looked at their entwined hands for silent, still minute. Ray dared not breathe. But all of a sudden Len was leaning forwards in his chair, the cigarette dropped from his other hand, and he was pulling Ray into a kiss.

Len’s lips were a little rough on account of split but his mouth and his breath were hot. Snart cupped Ray’s cheek with his free hand, Ray leaning into the pressure and doing his best to kiss back; head tilted, eyes closed and mouth open, like they do in the movies.

Smiling into the kiss, Len introduced a little tongue; not eager to push into Ray’s mouth but just enough to lick the sensitive portions of the boy’s lips. It was a slow kiss; tender, even. Not the kind Snart was used to but the kind he really excelled at. He had as much time as he pleased.

When they finally broke, Ray was breathing fast and hard, his cheeks practically glowing. He tried to find the words to express himself but he was utterly tongue-tied. _All Len’s fault_.

“That _was_ what you meant, right?” Snart did his best Cheshire Cat impression, “when you went to hold my hand?” He squeezed Ray’s hand once again before bringing it up to his lips. He brushed a kiss over the back of it, feeling a little smug as the boy’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Yeah. Yeah that’s what I meant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it! Part one of Eutectics. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and let me tell you there are plans for the next part!   
> So don't worry, I won't leave you hanging here. 
> 
> Other notes: I hope you all learned some physics reading this, and I'm so, so sorry for the terribly obvious Prison Break references, but I really couldn't not include them. (Those blueprints _will_ be put to use at some stage in the future of this series.


End file.
